Dark Raven Part One: Collision
by Dark Raven008912
Summary: Lucy is a girl living in a post-apocalyptic world which is ruled by six factions. Together she and her uncle, Sam, struggle to survive in the barren world. However, their lives take an unexpected turn when they meet a strange boy...
1. Lucy

**A/N: I've been lazy/learning for a long long time but I've decided to rewrite Dark Raven since I was too young and inexperienced at the time (I'm only 14 now). I'm really busy with other stuff in life so I will try to update this as much as I can. Anyways I've decided to give this story a much deeper plot and such. This story will have three parts, part one which starts at Lucy's childhood since my other one was kinda too plotless and anime-ish. Anyways this chapter just introduces Lucy and the NEXTs, the first part will be mainly told from Lucy's POV.**

**-Key**

**OOOOO Location/POV change**

**_"Italics" _flashbacks/misc.**

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Chapter One: Lucy

_ "There's no time!"_

_ "Be we have think of another way!"_

_ "No way the Bugs will be all over us any minute! We've already lost all the MTs guarding this place and the perimeter guns are overheating."_

_ "Mama, what's happening?"_

_ "Honey, you have to go to sleep now."_

_ "What? But I don't..."_

_ "Don't worry, you'll wake up again."_

_ "Will you be there mama?"_

_ "I'll always be with you..."_

OOOOO

"Will it hurt?"

"Of course not its just a flu shot."

Lucy winced as the needle penetrated her arm. For as long as she had been alive, Lucy remembered getting these "flu shots" every year. When she had asked her uncle why, he told her it was to keep her from getting sick. As far as she was concerned, the flu was the least of her worries.

"There!" the doctor said in a warm tone. "All better now isn't it? That didn't hurt one smiget."

What was a smiget, Lucy wondered. She wiped some blood form the spot on her arm softly where the needle had been inserted as the doctor turned around and looked through the opposite cupboard for a small bandage. After rummaging around for a few minutes, the doctor turned around with a light-blue bandage. Though Lucy was reluctant at first she allowed him to put it on her. She also noted that he smelled slightly of burnt leaves.

Lucy was a small girl, only nine years old, with silvery blond hair and innocent green eyes that were full of wonder and curiosity. She wore a jean skirt with white knee-length socks, a pair of boots and a dark blue shirt which she concealed under her jacket as the doctor let her go. Instantly she hid behind another man, he simply patted her on the head and thanked the doctor. She never liked the doctor, he didn't have the same aura about him as her uncle Sam did and it made her rather uncomfortable around the man.

"You're still scared of me I see." The doctor said with a playful frown.

"She'll grow to like you." The Sam replied with a friendly tone.

"I hope your right Sam." The doctor said with a laugh. "If she's anything like your sister then maybe she'll hit me with something at me next time you two visit."

Sam laughed. "Don't get your hopes up my friend."

The two left the office with Lucy sticking out her tongue at the doctor.

"That man is scary." Lucy said in a terrified tone. Her uncle simply laughed.

"Why are you so scared of him? He's a friend of ours," Lucy blinked a few times in astonishment, "don't you remember when he came over for Christmas dinner?"

"Ya!" Lucy piped up but then immediately turned sour-faced. "Then he asked me if I was eating my vegetables!"

Her uncle smiled and said, "Didn't u say you were hungry before this? Come on, I think we can still catch breakfast if we hurry!"

Lucy smiled and followed him. Her uncle Sam—for as long as she could remember—had always cared for her and above all, was always kind to her unless she did something terribly wrong like shaving their neighbor's cat. From what she heard from eavesdropping during family reunions her uncle had participated in the Great War from back then, though she highly doubted that anyone like him would have done something like that.

The "Rising Sun Café" was always the highlight of Lucy's day. Even though they only went there once or twice a year since Sam was always using his money to care for Lucy and himself. But today was different, he had saved up enough money to take them both. Usually he brought enough so that Lucy could get anything she wanted off the menu, of course she in turn always made sure to leave enough so that Sam could get whatever he wanted as well. That was usually nothing but a cup of bitter brown milk she had come to know as coffee. Lucy never understood why adults like Sam and the others in the restaurant liked to drink the stuff, it was not as good as milk and certainly not better than juice. Sam had simply told her, "it's our special milk", and patted her on the head. After that she gave up asking him.

Lucy skipped along happily ahead of Sam, running through the door and saying hi to their usual customers who had grown used to seeing them from time to time.

"Haven't seen you here in a while Samuel." An older woman said as the man walked in, "Business slower than usual?"

"Good morning Gina!" Lucy chimed as she walked up to sit at the counter.

Gina was a slightly larger than normal woman who was in her mid-forties. Lucy had come to like her a lot as she always gave her something special every time she and Sam came to eat. Gina was a very kind person who scolded Sam whenever Lucy was lectured by him.

"And how are we doing today princess?" Gina asked with a smile.

"I got my flu shot today!" Lucy said flashing the waitress her biggest smile, and showing off her bright bandage.

"Such a pretty smile! I think you deserve extra pancakes today!" the woman said. Sam laughed and ordered a coffee and the daily newspaper. Lucy sat on the barstools impatiently swinging her legs back and forth and spinning on the chair. Gina brought Sam his coffee and newspaper. The two began to exchange a few words and compliments, then began reminiscing with one another, talking of the things they did as children and the long faded war. Most of the time they laughed as they told the one another of the ridiculous things they did in their youth.

"Will you have the regular again Lucy?" Gina asked.

"Ya!" Lucy chimed. "With extra syrup."

"Well I'll see what George can cook up."

With that she disappeared behind a swinging door. Lucy then turned her attention to the window across from her. Outside she could see gray clouds beginning to form in the once blue, clear sky. She never liked it when it rained. Whenever it rained it made her think about all the things that saddened her, each raindrop she saw as a piece of her less-memorable experiences. To her rain was melancholy. The mere sight of it depressed her, and she didn't know why.

"Where's my food!?" Lucy whined as the thought of breakfast was suddenly dumped back into her mind. The cook brought it out from the back. What would have been a regular dish to any man or woman seemed like a feast to Lucy. She wasn't used to eating so much during breakfast, and she stared rather childishly in awe at the plate in front of her (of course she still was a kid). The plate had about 8 pancakes stacked on top of one another with syrup and various fruits running off the top and complete with a pat of butter in the middle. Accompanying it were brown, greasy sausages, eggs, bacon, and two hash browns. Lucy uttered a quick prayer of thanks to God and quickly dug into her dish.

Sam watched his niece as she the cook brought her a tall glass of milk. He had always tried to get Lucy to drink her milk, though it would always either end up on the floor or in his face. Fortunately for him Gina had come up with some otherworldly way to convince Lucy to drink the stuff, despite whatever she had said or done about it before.

Sam was a middle-aged man, around forty or fifty years. Despite his age he kept a clean face, only a few whiskers here or there on his chin, a mix of black and gray hairs once suggested that he had shiny jet black hair in his youth. He had a rather lean muscular build from his days back in the army, and wore an old army jacket with the name "Stanley" engraved on a patch on the left sleeve.

"So how does your life treat you Sam?" Gina said as she came back with a glass of iced tea.

"Oh, so and so you know." He replied as he took another sip of his coffee. "I think I'm getting too old these days" he took another sip "I can't keep up with Lucy like I used to."

"Don't worry about it." Gina said handing the glass to a customer. "She's just going through a stage, she'll calm down by the time she's fourteen."

"Are you sure about that?" The man replied giving Lucy a playfully worried look as she gobbled down her meal.

"Sorry." Lucy blushed, noticing her uncle's stare, and began to eat more slowly. Gina had once warned him that Lucy would grow up to be very unladylike-like, because of the absence of a mother.

I couldn't agree more, Sam decided.

Over the past few years that he had been raising her, Sam had begun to see a little of himself in her. Though Lucy still retained much of her mother's character, she didn't care about getting dirty as she spent most of her days after school in her uncle's shop. Sam's job repairing mobiles was rather time consuming as he still needed to get used to how the new models worked.

He scanned the papers until he got to the political section. Ever since a few months ago the section had become very heated. The main articles of discussion were about the fate of the gods of war, the ultimate weapons known as Armored Core.

A month ago the government of Mars had issued a ban on the machines. Saying that they were useless and only provoked warfare. As a result dozens of well-written discussions had been posted in the newspaper, expanding the political section to almost half of the news itself.

Apparently the idea of having the AC's banned and destroyed had sparked major controversy throughout both Earth and Mars, as many countries on the Earth had their main forces composed of ACs. While the colonies of Mars used advanced multi-treaded tanks and heavily armored walkers. Many nights the news channels showed hours of footages of debates among both worlds as politicians, governors, prime ministers and high military personnel argued among each other over the fate of the war machines.

In truth, Sam hated those things with all his heart. They had no humane value in them at all, as he recalled a man stating that the machines could be used for peace instead of war. They destroyed towns, killed people, they had weapons which could destroy several city blocks in one shot. He had seen many innocent people die at the hands of these machines and he was sure he wasn't the only one. He doubted with the Pax Economica order in effect, any bans on ACs and their advanced technology would take place.

He remembered first seeing them during the Nation Dismantlement War. He was only an MT pilot back then, but he was a damn good one. He had destroyed at least two ACs in combat, and he had been given the title "Ace". Unfortunately that didn't last long, as new ACs suddenly appeared on the horizon towards the end of the war. The NEXTs. They were near invincible, they completely decimated the world's armies; toppled the world's governments mere weeks; even the United States of America didn't stand a chance. Even though the Land of Liberty had over one thousand ACs, they were nothing when it came to those new models. Sam remembered believing that the US would never fall, would always stand tall. Now it was a mere relic of the past; nothing but words in a textbook.

Ravens as well suffered greatly. The once invincible masters of warfare fell to the NEXTs, their once godlike ACs now completely outclassed by their predecessors. He recalled the days when novice pilots would tremble in the cockpits of their inferior mechs whenever ravens were mentioned in their mission briefings.

The world was now run by six major individual corporate conglomerate factions: Global Armaments America, Rosenthal, Rayleonard, Bernard Felix Foundation, and Eqbal. When they took over the world, they evenly divided it into areas of separate control. They promised the people of the world food, clothing, shelter and protection as long as they served the corporations. The way Sam saw it, the factions simply forced people into colony-cities and essentially turned them into corporate slaves, working themselves in Kojima-laced factories where death rates were high due to the heavy contamination; simply for a few weeks-worth of food and power. It all seemed so ridiculous, but it was hard to refuse. The companies used the NEXTs to deal with those who would stand against them.

Now to make things worse, the military companies had begun integrating more Kojima technology into the NEXTs, making them even more formidable than ever before. When it had first been discovered, Kojima particles were a scientific breakthrough. The energy it supplied was thousands of times more than nuclear or solar energy and it created almost no excess waste. At first it was used to run cities and power the homes of the common citizens of the world. It helped solve the world's great energy crisis, as the Earth only had two percent of the fossil fuels it used to. Kojima energy on the other hand was cheap and easy to create, it produced half the amount of waste burning coal did while only requiring one-eighth of the material to synthesize. Unfortunately, it was discovered that Kojima technology damaged all life forms around it on the atomic level and was supposedly discontinued for public use. It was put into widespread military use towards the end of the Nation Dismantlement War which led to what many called the "Third Great Destruction".

"Readin about politics again?" Gina asked as she walked towards him. Sam nodded simply and turned the page.

"So any news on the military ban?"

"Apparently the radicals are suggesting that ACs be used for peace instead of war..." Sam said with a slight scowl. "The bastards' are crazy..."

"Yeah but apparently we can't do anything about it." Gina said with a sigh. "The ways of the world are out of our hands now."

"I can't see how you can get so much food from them at a time like this." Sam said changing the subject.

"Gotta go through a lotta trouble for it."

"Black market?"

"You bet." Gina said with a smirk. "Those guys are makin a fortune off of food clothes these days."

Sam spun around in the barstool so that he faced the window. The sunny sky before had grayed as raindrops peppered the windows and polished the streets and buildings.

Lucy whined as she saw the rain coming down. She stopped licking her fork and ran to press her face against the cold window. "Why did it have to rain today!?"

Lucy. She came into his life right after the Pax Economica order was put into effect. Lucy was only a crying infant when she was given to him by his sister. After that day he never heard of anything more from her or her husband. They had simply disappeared from the face of the earth; no city records; no social security numbers (not that money mattered much anymore in the colonies these days). They were just gone as if they hadn't even existed. From that day forward he promised to raise Lucy as best as he could, away from the war-torn world that he and everyone else lived in. He would protect her from the disgusting ways of this world. That he promised his sister.

"Come'on Lucy." Sam called as he got up from the stool. The people in the bar waved at them and said their goodbyes, as they would not see the two for a long time. "If we get home in time I think we can play a quick game of chess before I have to get back to work."

"Sam what's that?" Lucy said pointing at something on the street. Sam walked over and eyed the object with puzzlement.

"A silver cardinal?" Sam said with astonishment. Silver cardinals were extremely rare ever since Kojima particles began contaminating the world. Sam had once read that the sight of one signaled hope, though he doubted that any of that would have mattered anymore. The whole world had gone to hell.

You bastards can do whatever you want, Sam decided as he watched Lucy struggle to put on her coat that was, as she said, "twenty times too big", just stay away from my Lucy.

OOOOO

"I win right?" A boy's voice was heard in a lab room. Men and women in white overcoats were busy walking round form one piece of monitoring equipment to the next, examining the data and jotting it down on clipboards they were carrying.

The boy asked again. "Did I win? I beat them all, I win the game right?"

There was a large window towards the front end of the room that overlooked a massive desert field surrounded with destroyed metal corpses of MTs, Normals, and a few NEXTs. In the center of the field stood one lone NEXT. Energy flickered brilliantly around it as the pilot disengaged the AC's primal armor. The AC's crimson-painted armor shimmered as the downpour of rain attacked its dusty surface unshielded by the energy barrier. The unit had only slender laser blade emitters on both arms, they were smooth and alien-like while the AC retained a slightly more human-military look. It's orange -red visor glowed a warm blue in the now darkened arena.

"Very good." A voice replied softly but calmly. A slender-looking woman walked through the doors, she was also wearing a lab coat. She was also accompanied by a taller man, though he was wearing a suit rather than a lab coat, he looked more of a businessman than a scientist. "That was great! Did you have fun?"

"Well I'm kinda getting bored with these toys, they lose too fast."

"Did you like your new ones?" The man asked.

"Yeah!" The boy said happily. "They were really good at the game! I almost thought they would win."

"Lying?" The man asked.

"He's only speaking his mind." The woman said. "It's amazing isn't it? What you can do with an ignorant child and a NEXT."

"I feel bad for the kid." The man said with slight humor in his voice. "Do you think he'll ever realize that this is all a dream?"

The woman laughed softly to herself, she crossed her arms. "That's what makes him so perfect."

"The fact that he's living a lie?"

"No that's not what I'm talking about." The woman said, her red glossy lips losing their warm smile as she watched the NEXT walk to a dry dock. "It's the fact that he's so pure; untainted; uncontaminated with this world's evil. It makes him the perfect weapon."

"A Linx with abilities like that at such a young age only comes one-in-a-million." The man said glancing at his wristwatch. "Do you really want to corrupt him like this?"

The woman smiled again and wrote something quickly onto her clipboard. "As long as he believes this is his only world we can control him."

"Do you really believe he can surpass Berlioz?"

"In due time. You on the other hand better get working on modifications to his NEXT, I don't want him dying on his first skirmish."

"Yes ma'am." The man said flatly, and walked out the room.

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**A/N: Okay so here's the first chapter of the rewritten Dark Raven story. I'll get to introducing more characters and big NEXT fights later. Just so you all don't flame me, I have not played armored core 4 yet so my explanation of Kojima technology may be off by a lot. Anyways I'll try to update this as much as I can.**

**I'd also appreciate it if someone could give me a quick personality description of the characters in Armored Core 4, it'd be appreciated if someone could do this for me.**


	2. Stray Sparrow

_"Hey! Hey!"_

_Cool water brushing the skin._

_"Are you okay!?"_

_Heavy, wet cloth against the body._

_"Just stay with me okay? I'm gonna call an ambulance!"_

_Piercing slivers of light through the shadows of darkness._

_"Hello? Yes... I dunno, I was walking along and... yes... okay..."_

_Cold, soggy mud underneath._

_"Hey! Stay with me okay!?"_

_A woman's voice calling out._

_"What's your name? Hey! Tell me your name..."_

_Name. Memory. History. Past._

_"You gotta stay awake okay? You're losing a lot of blood—stay awake until an ambulance comes okay!?"_

_Gentle shaking. Hands gingerly pressed against the face._

_"C...cr..."_

_"What? Hey! Speak up!"_

_"...cry..."_

A young woman was sitting in the waiting room of Anatolia's hospital. She wore a dark blue blazer that was left unbuttoned with a white shirt underneath and a pair of tight-fit jeans. All these pieces of clothing were covered with semi-fresh blood. She had seemed to have found a rather interesting spot on the floor to look at, as she sat in a somewhat slouched position against the chair with her hands resting in her lap. Being covered with blood, her gruesome image attracted some odd looks from others sitting in the waiting room, possibly wondering what in the world the daughter of Professor Jarnefeldt had done to herself or someone else.

"Miss Jarnefeldt?"

Fiona jumped as her name was called by the clerk at the desk. She had been so wrapped up in the recent events that she had forgotten momentarily about the real world.

"Y-yes?" She stood up rather anxiously.

"The doctor will see you now." The clerk eyed her bloody getup. "Room A155, down the hall on your left."

Fiona nodded and walked in the direction that the clerk was pointing. She was glad that Anatolia still had pretty decent hospitals, her father always used the profit from his research to keep the hospitals and clinics running.

"Father..." She mumbled softly to herself as she walked down the hall. The very word she spoke resurfaced memories of times of happiness long since passed.

Her father was among the top leading scientists in the field of Kojima technology. His advancements and innovations brought forth a vast amount of wealth to the growing colony of Anatolia that had not been seen since his arrival.

Although he worked for Rayleonard, he was never recruited into their development and research experiments. It was never that he wasn't good enough, it was that he didn't like to partake in such actions. He disliked being under the jurisdiction of a conglomerate company, and, despite Fiona's curiosity, would refuse to reveal his motives for such actions. However, she would always see a glint in his eye that she never saw in him outside these actions.

"I have my reasons!" He would say with a smile, although in his eyes she would see that little glint, something that she believed only she as his daughter would have been able to see. It was sadness, a true deep and dark sadness brought on by immense pain, this much she could see.

But despite this that she saw, her father would always keep a cheerful attitude around her. He was very fun to be around, and he entertained her many times as a child with his wild antics that he had allegedly picked up as a young man—although at her age at the time she believed it to be impossible that her father was a once a child like herself. Overall, she loved her father to death. He was a kind, caring, and hardworking man who never put himself before others.

Then he died. She didn't see him but saw where he lay. Walking in one day she found him collapsed on the floor, his skin pale and cold and his breathing very faint. She managed to get him to the hospital where he was kept alive for a few days until his death. She remembered this day very well, she cried in her room for five days. She felt so heartbroken that she broke down and lost it halfway to his coffin during his funeral. His death left her empty and alone and did the same for the colony of Anatolia. Rayleonard broke off ties with the colony and left it in a state of economic crisis. No one cared for the colony or its inhabitants. Corrupt politicians from neighboring colonies took advantage of Anatolia's desperate people and stripped them of their remaining finances. In an instant Fiona's paradise came crashing down on her and reality slapped her in the face with its cold, hard hand.

It was at this point she began to realize many things that she hadn't before. The world had opened up and become clearer. There was no paradise anymore, only a wasteland filled with violence, death, and corruption. She watched helplessly the citizens of Anatolia were reduced to beggars. Of course at first she tried to help the people, but the rich who got their money in alternative ways were unwilling to donate. She figured as much, why would the rich want to waste their money on the weak. She hated all of them, and it was made worse by the fact that she had no power to stop them. She was only the daughter of the great Professor Jarnefeldt, there was no power in that. No one would listen to her even if she tried to speak out for the people.

Fiona shook her head gently to clear her thoughts. What happened before was all in the past now. Things had changed when she met a man named Emil Gustav.

He was a wealthy man who had worked under the CEO of Rayleonard. According to him, he had very close and friendly ties to her father, and the fact that Anatolia was in shambles filled him with remorse.

With very powerful and strict political plans, he managed to balance out the the levels between the rich and the poor. He also helped to restart the economy by dealing in the Next production business Although it resulted mainly in Anatolia becoming a trade post for other companies to step in, it did give them a steady, if not low, income to provide the very basic necessities for its citizens.

Even though Fiona was grateful to Emil and respected him for his actions, the girl was not in approval of the mans methods. Many of them were done in a manner that would have been considered very underhanded and immoral by many. But she had to admit, regretfully, that it did at least get the job done and that it would have to do until she could find a better way to support her colony.

"Over here Miss Jarnefeldt." A doctor called from behind. It was twice now that Fiona had gotten lost in her thoughts; twice now that someone had to call her back; and the first time that she had ever yelped in her life. Overall it was a rather embarrassing moment, as the doctor glanced at her with a strange look on his face before showing her again to the room where the stranger she rescued lay.

Stepping in, the room was unusually dark despite the fact that it was almost midday. The blinds were drawn over the large panel windows, giving the dark room a soft light blue glow. Fortunately, it was bright enough to make out the pieces of furniture and other large objects that seemed crammed into the small infirmary. This included the bed upon which the mysterious man Fiona had rescued lay upon.

Remembering what the doctor had told her a few moments before entering the room, the curious girl quietly pulled up a chair next to the bed. Seeing a small spot of empty space on the bed, Fiona took advantage of the opportunity and lay her arms on top of the bed. The room's warm, dark glow enticed sleep and she had not been sleeping very well these past few weeks. She was glad the blood stains were dry though, as the thought of getting blood on her face while she napped would have been both unsettling to her and anyone who saw her. Leaning forward and resting her chin on her folded arms, she suddenly became aware of how deathly silent it was. Except for the soft humming of the life monitoring systems and the soft, slow breathing of the resting patient, there was not another sound around her.

Fiona lifted her head at the thought of this and her eyes drifted over to the sleeping stranger on the bed. Something about the man drew her closer to him, as if by an unexplainable attraction or maybe just plain curiosity. Slowly she stood up and moved toward his face to get a better look.

He wasn't half bad-looking. In fact, he was probably one of the cutest strangers she ever picked up—he was the only stranger she had ever picked up in her life.

He had a somewhat feminine look to his features but not so much that it obscured the masculinity of a man in those traits. His thick, semi-long black hair fell softly over his face and sprawled over on the pillow, unevenly obscuring his eyes partly from view. Even in the soft blue darkness she could make out the perfection of his features. His skin was light, smooth, and free of any blemish or freckle. In fact, Fiona could swear that anyone else who saw this sleeping stranger would believe him to be a manufactured product rather than a human being.

His body was very lean, although well-toned areas unhidden by the hospital gown suggested that there was nothing ashamed to hide—rather, it would be a shame to hide it from anyone. Her imagination running somewhat astray, she could imagined a Joshua O'Brien except that he had black hair and was a little thinner. In fact, she believed that this man would probably have given her friend a run for his money in terms of popularity among the young women of the Aspina colony.

Were this a Japanese Manga (some forms were still around, though entire books were very few and often quite expensive), Fiona imagined, the bed would probably have been stained with blood from an enormous nosebleed as well. But since this was reality, she could only stand there, her face unnaturally close to his as she examined his features, and a fantasy in the back of her mind slowly swimming up through the waters of her consciousness until...

"Aaaahhh what am I doing...?" Fiona mumbled rather loudly to herself as she stood up, trying to get rid of the wild fantasies running rampant in her mind. She suddenly regretted those words, as the man stirred and grunted softly as he shifted slightly in the bed.

It was not a gruff heavy grunt like normal men did, it was unnaturally high-pitched in terms of men but, like his face, retained a masculine quality that felt neither out of place or right on track. She took a step back as his body slowly rose into a sitting position in the bed. The man placed a hand on his face while the other had moved into his lap.

"B-beautiful..." Fiona mumbled then gasped as she caught herself. She couldn't believe that those words even left her mouth. But the mere mention of the words did make her realize something in it. He looked exactly like an angel from heaven: pure, beautiful, and perfect. His body seemed to glow in the darkness, illuminating the room with an unexplainable presence. Taking a step forward, she reached her hands out toward him in a trance-like state. Someone as beautiful as this couldn't possibly exist, it should be forbidden in a desolate world such as this. A being with such constructed perfection is destined for a plane of existence higher than this war-torn and barren wasteland of a planet.

Just as her slow, hesitant movements were about to bring a finger to the man's cheek, his head suddenly snapped in her direction as if he'd just been hit across the face. His eyes opened suddenly as he did this, and by the time Fiona could pull her hand away, she was looking straight into his eyes. They were a beautiful, brilliant golden color, but inside them she could see pain. It was an intense pain that she only could grasp because she had experienced it once before, after her father's death.

A smile appeared on his face. At first it was small, but it grew into such a large expression on his face that it filled Fiona with something she had not felt in a long time: hope.

"Hello there, what is your name?" He asked. The stranger spoke softly and smoothly, his voice carrying on the words so comfortably and warmly that it would have sparked confidence in anyone he spoke to. The way he smiled burned into her memory, that reassuring smile offset by a pair of melancholy eyes with a motherly quality in them. But the way his face looked when he smiled, Fiona believed that she would never forget. He just looked so sad and broken, like a mother trying to comfort her children and tell them that everything will be okay even though the end was near.

There was something in him that struck her, for she suddenly turned and bolted out from the room, leaving the young man in the room with a clueless look on his face.

OOOOO

His memory was a blur, the last thing he could remember was someone calling his name—or rather, shouting it. Then a loud noise, the splashing of water—darkness—, and then the sight of the sky through a blurred world slowly being consumed in a crimson haze.

The next thing he remembered as he slipped in and out the the blackness that he had now assumed was his own unconsciousness was the pleasant feeling of cool water against his body. Someone was calling out to him again and he could hear the crunch of footsteps on wet gravel and sand getting closer as the darkness took him again. The voice was different though, it was light and young and sounded full of life. Something was different about it, it possessed the quality of fear and anxiousness. He remembered this voice well, it feared death, but not of itself, rather, it was for another. There was no pain in this voice, only fear with no shriek or scream of agony. Every time the darkness took him, this voice brought him back into the blurry light of the day.

He felt hands press on his face, and then something firm and soft under his head. The hands were so soft and gentle, he could not remember a time when he had felt something like this. For once in a long time, he could genuinely say that it was the most pleasurable feeling he had ever experienced.

He remembered feeling very tired. His limbs were numb, and he was feeling cold. But this feeling was not unpleasant, rather it made him want to settle down and sleep. The rocks beneath him suddenly felt very comfortable, and he believed it better to lay here and sleep than to get up. It was then that he felt the warmth against his cheeks, it felt so much more amazing than the coldness that was eating away at his body. What was this feeling?

He remembered now.

The feeling of another person.

The warmth of kindness.

Now he was in a room with someone he'd never even met before.

"Hello there, what is your name?" he said trying his best to put on a friendly smile, though he could feel something inside of him bubble up in a way that made him uncomfortable. The woman responded by abruptly turning on her heels and leaving the room in a nervous manner. Even through the darkness he could tell that it was a young woman not even out of her teens yet, and though he couldn't see her eyes, the way her red hair smelled and the fact that her clothes were stained in a dirty crimson color suggested that she was the one who had saved him from death.

The dark blue room was unusually soothing to him. As the man's golden eyes scanned the room he noticed a pile of torn clothes on a table on the other side of the room. From his recollection of recent events, he assumed that those rags belonged to him. Realizing that the gown was uncomfortably revealing and was not doing a good job at keeping the chill of the dark room away, he contemplated on wearing the bloody, dirty clothing over the simple gown. Deciding that it would be better to walk around in a full set of clothes (even if it was torn, bloody, and smelly), he swung his legs over the side of the bed and hopped lightly onto the floor.

This action he later regretted, as an uncomfortable pain shot up his left side. Gritting his teeth together, he lifted his gown to find bandages wrapped around the length of his body. The cloth strips had traces of blood on them, and wherever he looked he found more of it wrapped on various places over his body.

"What... happened to me?" he asked the empty room. Slowly and carefully he made his way over to the chair, wincing every few steps as his wounds adjusted to the movement of his body.

Getting the gown off was a rather easy task. Though his limbs were still stiff from lying in a bed for, he guessed, more than a day, the looseness of the gown allowed for easy removal. He assumed that it was also easy to be put on, as he predicted that the hospital staff had to dress and undress him while he was unconscious.

Putting on his old set of clothes, however, was more difficult than he had predicted. His limbs were more stiff than he had thought. And the long-sleeved clothing had very little room for maneuvering space. On top of that he could not move his limbs too drastically, as his body was still recovering from his injuries and he did not want to do anything to strenuous to it. He had already had enough experience in the past few moments of walking to convince him otherwise.

He spent a full five minutes trying to slither himself into the rags that would have once been called clothing. Though this proved to be futile, as his attempts only wound up stretching his arms or legs into uncomfortable and painful positions. In the end he had only managed to put on a pair of plain black boxers that, aside from a faint smell of stale blood, were miraculously untouched compared to the tatters of the rest of his clothing.

With a defeated sigh the man just stood there in the blue darkness of the room, his back to the door, and his eyes shut. The quietness was faintly familiar, and deep inside his mind he could hear familiar voices calling his name. His eyes suddenly snapped open.

And it was then that he realized something.

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember anything anymore.

OOOOO

Fiona leaned against the wall next to the door with a relieved sigh. It felt so strange that she bolted out the door like she just did.

"Are you okay miss?" The doctor came over and asked in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, I think so." She replied breathlessly.

"How is he?" The doctor asked.

"Who."

"Your friend."

"He's not my friend." Fiona said, surprised at the faint bitterness rolling off her tongue at the words. "I just found him in the stream, thats all."

The doctor nodded at her and she looked away from him. Just because she was Anatolia's hailed Professor's daughter, didn't mean that she had so many friends. In fact, when it came to her friends, she had very few. Instead of going out and spending time with buddies like a normal teenager, Fiona often spent much of her time with her father in the laboratory. It wasn't that she was anti-social, it was just that she was intrigued more by the many mechanical devices of her fathers lab than the new cute guy on the block or the newest line of Air-boots from Rosenthal.

Now that he was gone, everything that she loved and was passionate about was dead.

The doctor was now walking down the hall after slipping a card in the envelope next to the door on the wall. Fiona shook her head to clear her mind, now was not the time to think of these things.

She had to face him. She had to face that man, otherwise she would never be able to face the hardships to come. Besides, facing a single man was much easier than dealing with the problems of the colony.

She opened the door just in time to hear the sliding of the shades. The darkness of the room was suddenly covered in the bright light of the day, and the unsuspecting girl was suddenly presented with a shocking image

The stranger she had rescued was looking over his shoulder to see who had come in. The light bounced off every attractive contour of his lean, muscular body. It seemed almost as if the light itself was touching his beauty, to make sure it was real.

Surely no one man this perfect deserved to be born in a world such as this.

Fiona covered her mouth with one hand as she stared at him. Except for his boxers, which she suspected were probably filthy with blood, he was naked.

He was standing in all of his beautifully half-naked glory in front of her.

Fiona blushed at him, and opened her mouth meekly to say something before he started first.

"Uhh..." He began with an embarrassed smile, "sorry if I startled you but..."

The girl never got to hear the rest of his words, for she suddenly felt very dizzy and collapsed.

OOOOO

"What are your reports?"

"Well from the test results we can confirm that the Lynx gene was found in his blood tests."

"AMS compatibility huh?"

Emil Gustav leaned back in his chair as the doctor in front of him flipped through his clipboard. What luck to have found such a great asset that Anatolia could actually use.

"Are you sure he has no memory of his past?"

"He has no recollection whatsoever—from what I can tell anyway." The doctor pushed up his glasses as he checked his clipboard again. Emil leaned forward, interested, and rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands together in a wise-man-like gesture.

"Very good," Emil said with a slight hint of delight in his low tone, "when that boy gets out, tell him I'd like to have a word with him."

The doctor nodded and walked out of the room, tucking his clipboard under his arm and slipping his pen into his chest pocket.

Alone and uninterrupted, the man rested his chin on his folded hands. There was much that had to be done. More importantly, he thought, was how to get the young man to agree to such an outrageous request.

Perhaps the Jarnefeldt legacy was not finished contributing to the world after all.


	3. Wondering Raven

Chapter 3: Wandering Raven

Flames crackled alongside the laughter of drunken men which all flowed together with silence of the cold desert plains. Aside from the artificially made noise, there was nothing but the howling the wind in the distance and the occasional cry of a bird or the howling of a coyote or desert wolf.

The encampment was a large flat area of land which was littered with tents both large and small. The tents were arranged around many of the various fire pits created by the inhabitants.

Around each massive lantern of flame sat groups of men. They varied from young to old, thin to thick, and tall to short. Some of them were wearing uniforms, others were bare-chested and some fell in between. Some had brought their rifles with them to the campfire, while others had left their weapons leaning against their respective tents. Many had with them a bottle of alcohol, and they happily passed it around the group as they talked and reminisced on things long gone by. Old men would talk about the old days in their villages while the young boys would ramble on and on about the women they left behind in their hometowns. Sometimes a man whose home had been a battlefield for a quarrel between two conglomerate factions would begin speaking. He would usually talk about his family or friends that had died in the ensuing chaos, using it as a reason to have taken up arms. When the other men heard this, they would immediately pass a bottle his way and allow him to drink away his despair. Then the group would continue on with their conversations on women or sex or life, their laughter echoing across the empty, barren battlefield.

There was an arrangement that was unlike all the others in the encampment. It's fire was small, the number of tents arranged, few. Around its embers sat but three members: a boy, a young man, and a girl.

The young man lay with his feet towards the fire, his shirt removed and used as a pillow for his head against the rocky earth. His right leg was drawn up while his left lay flay with his body. His right hand rested on his thin, firm chest while his other hand lay casually on the ground. His dark brown gaze was directed at the night sky. His messy, semi-long hair sprawled slightly over his makeshift pillow and concealed his left eye from view. He was but twenty years old, his gentle composure and thin body unfitting for a soldier. He breathed slowly and calmly, as if he was in deep thought or at peace with himself. On his right side he had laid to rest his rifle, an extra magazine and a few unloaded bullets on the ground next to it. Looking at it, the years of service were beginning to show on the weapon. Its barrel was worn and slightly dented, the gray steel underneath the black paint was showing in small slivers, and its wooden frame was splintered and worn down from being dragged around the sandy dunes.

Off to his right sat a young boy. He was sitting upright with his legs crossed and a rifle and cloth in hand. He had on a blank expression, his crimson eyes gazing into the flames of the small fire as he absently continued to rub the cloth against the barrel. It was a rather strange image, as the rifle seemed out of proportion to the nine year-old child's body. His short, black hair blew softly in the balmy night breeze and took on a bluish hue from the moonlit night. His was thin but his hands unhidden by his uniform suggested that his young body had already been hardened by the battlefield. Something suggested that he was looking over at the girl across from him, his eyes wandering between the flames and the girl behind it. Every few moments he would open his mouth and inhale, as if to say or ask something. His mouth would just close a few moments later, his conscious unable to form words to his thoughts.

The girl across from the boy was a bit older. Though still younger than the man lying down on her right, her body had already begun to show the features of a woman—though it was not very noticeable at first glance. Her body was slim and delicate boned while her smooth, tanned skin was tinged with the orange reflections of the flames. She was not a soldier, her clothing consisted of somewhat nomadic-style robes which had become torn and dirty from spending many days in the barren desert with her other two companions. Her long, dark brown hair hid her innocent, pale green eyes from view of the young boy. Upon those faded green orbs contained the dark essence of hate and pain. Her face expressed depression and discomfort though it could be seen that the poor girl tried with effort to hide it. She sat with her slender legs folded up to her chest and her arms encircled underneath her knees. Her shoes were worn and tattered, the soles nearly gone with sections of the entire piece missing. On her right sat a few cans of food, rations which were shared with her by the young man and boy. They were untouched however, the aluminum tops peeled back and the various meals glistening as their sauces reflected the flames in the darkness.

The young man sat up and said, "You should eat. You're gonna need some energy for tomorrow, we're supposed to be trekking a mountain."

His voice was full of warmth and kindness and the girl's face softened a bit at the sound of this.

"Not hungry." She replied coldly, trying to direct whatever hate in her heart she didn't have towards the man. Looking at her, the young man could tell from her face that she only trying not to look hungry.

With a groan, the young man lay down again on his uniform pillow. "You should try to eat anyways, KP makes food go bad after about twelve hours... eat up while you can..."

With a hesitant frown, the girl picked up a can with a utensil stuck into the thick matter. She spooned a bit into her mouth, it wasn't very tasty but it was much better than what the other men had thrown her way. Her body finally being teased with food, the sense of hunger came and she began eating rather quickly, shoveling out large spoonfuls of the contents of the can into her mouth.

The young boy let out a soft gentle laugh. Watching the girl eat was a rather humorous change in the mood as her movements were the most exciting thing to come from her since he and his friend had taken her into their custody.

The young man, his keen ears listening to the sounds of her feast, laughed and said, "You see Sion! I knew she was hungry!"

The girl stopped eating and looked up at the two boys with an embarrassed blush as they both began laughing softly. Though they were soldiers, she liked the way these two laughed. It was light and friendly, not at all like the heavy, insane, and drunken laughter of the other men in the camp. Even though they were soldiers, she was glad to be with them and not the other bunch. Quietly uttering a thanks to god for such a blessing, she quietly buried her face back into the contents of the can, eating much more slowly.

"By the way," the man began, his eyes gazing off into space, "what's your name little girl?"

"Nia..." She answered. "And I'm _not _little."

"Whatever you say princess." He teased. "Whatever you say..."

Her face threw on an irritated look, then softened as she looked over at the silent young boy. He was still sitting there staring at the flames, he seemed in deep thought and the rifle was now laid out in front of him with the cloth on top of it.

"Umm...hey..." she stammered a bit as she tried to catch the younger boy's attention without frightening him. "Sion was it?"

He nodded.

"Umm... thank you for earlier." She said sincerely. "I don't know what I would've done without your help."

He did not reply, although his petite and chapped lips parted slightly for a moment before he closed them again. Whatever he was going to say he decided against it.

She frowned a bit at his response

"Don't worry about him." The young man said reassuringly. "He's just a bit shy around the ladies that's all."

Nia nodded and with one last glance at the boy, picked up a small can of fruit. The ration cans all had built-in can openers that easily popped the top off with little effort, which was one of the little luxuries that Nia enjoyed for the first time as she sat at the campfire. Her village only managed to afford plain smooth-top cans, which took time to open with a regular knife. Although this wasn't a problem now that she was older, as a small child the wait was rather unbearable. Sometimes the cans even would contain spoiled food and had to be thrown away, then the can opening process would start over again.

The simple pleasures and irritations of a peaceful life.

Her village.

Her home.

Thinking about it made her realize again the very horrible truth. She would never again experience those days. She would never be able to laugh with her father, cook with her mother, listen to her grandfather's childhood stories, bathe with her little brother, and eat with friends and family. They were all dead, every single one of them killed by the colony's government forces for "supporting the enemy". All the people that she saw on an everyday basis were shot dead in front of her eyes, her father included.

OOOOO

_"I love you always Nia!" Her father cried out in desperation as a man in uniform and an officer's cap held his pistol to his neck._

_She wanted to scream at them, tell them to stop. She and many other women and children sat close together crying as they watched their husbands, sons and fathers lined up on the ground with guns to their heads. They too were crying out to their loved ones, their hearts pouring out their emotions within their last moments of life. Tears were pouring from her eyes, she wanted to run out to her father and hold him in her arms to protect him. Her fear for her own life left her paralyzed and unable to move, the soldiers with their weapons pointed at the witnesses to keep anyone from moving. Grandmothers cried for their sons, wives for their husbands and lovers for one another._

_"Die!" The officer cried and pulled the trigger, sending the bullet into her father's skull. The man's struggling ceased as he slumped lifelessly onto the floor. Nia's eyes widened as her father's blood poured from his dead body into the earth, its tawny color turned into a crimson brown around his now lifeless body. _

_As if in a race, the gunshot started the event. Every soldier with their guns pointed at the men opened fire upon them. The sound of gunfire replacing the screaming and mourning of the people. Nia shut her eyes and covered her ears as the sound of the guns seemed to go on for what seemed like hours. She could feel the hot tears stinging her eyes and rolling down her face. She was glad to have enough strength to close her eyes and shield her ears, but she only became more horrified as images appeared in her mind that she never would have thought existed._

_Finally the guns fell silent. Slowly, with soft sobs Nia opened her eyes. She was greeted with the most gruesome scene in her life. All over in front of her and the other women and children were bodies of the dead, their blood staining the once clean earth. She had no strength to cry and no power to move, all that was in her now was a strange feeling of nausea that overcame all of her senses. The hot, dry air was thick with the scent of blood. The heat and the stench finally broke the limits of her body and she leaned over and vomited into the ground. A older woman named Rin leaned over and helped her as she spewed everything onto the dirt. _

_The rest of the day was spent sitting on the ground as the soldiers patrolled the village. Babies cried as the hot sun burned their tender skin, children cried as they went hungry. The soldiers offered them no food or water whatsoever. It didn't matter to Nia though, her father was dead and she didn't have the strength to protect the rest of her family. What was she to do if the soldiers came for them next?_

_Families were kept apart until the night. Apparently the soldiers were getting ready to depart and were deciding who to take with them. Nia, knowing their ways from past stories, already guessed that they'd be taking all the young women and men with them. They needed soldiers after all, and required "entertainment" to loosen them up at night. Nia's mother draped clothing over her head to hide her from the eyes of the inspectors. They both already knew though that sooner or later Nia would catch the eyes of a passing soldier and be taken away, forever to be a plaything of the government._

_The sun cast its last slivers of light on the sky as it set off in the distance, its faint beams forming a light midnight blue sky. None of this was seen by her however, the hood draped over Nia's head was very well made and blocked out any light from her eyes. Though in the darkness of her mind she could hear the cries of young women among the shouts of the soldiers as they were torn from their families. Among them were also the young boys, their brothers and sisters calling out to them as they were "recruited"._

_Nia was scared. Scared to death in fact. Losing her father was enough, but being separated from the rest of her family was something that she couldn't bear alongside that in one moment. On top of that she was to be taken away as a slave to the officers and generals of the government army. Either that or she would probably be killed, which in her mind despite her fear she would have preferred._

_"You!" She heard a soldier shout in front of her. "Take of your hood!"_

_"Y-yes" Nia didn't even know why she answered, perhaps the fear had already forced her into submission. Slowly she removed the hood from her head, letting her hair fall out underneath it._

_"Stand up!" He barked. Nia's body moved almost automatically as the man commanded, just like a slave at the beck and call of its master. Her eyes never left the ground as she slowly stood up off the warm, dry earth, her stance wavering with fear. Beside her she could hear her mother softly crying as guard roughly snatched her chin and tilted her head to look up at him._

_He inspected her face rather throughly, tilting it side to side and up and down to see if there was anything desirable in her. The girl suddenly felt an anger build up inside her, she was nothing but a product in their eyes; something just to keep them happy. Her eyes never left the face of the man who held her in his grip. She wanted to bore her anger into the disgusting monster, but her face betrayed her emotions, as the man just smiled and in a lecherous way and pulled her out from her spot on the ground._

_"Get going!" He barked again as he jammed the butt of his gun firmly into her lower back._

_"Nia!" Her mother wailed as she walked on. Taking one last glance at her, she saw relatives restraining her mother as she struggled to run out to her. Nia wanted nothing than to run back into her mother's arms, tears began burning her eyes but she turned around and continued walking, the soldier following closely behind her. _

_Off in the distance she could hear the cawing of a bird. She recognized this call very well, they were abundant in the desert wastelands where many who wander like her people fall._

_The black bird._

_"...Nia..." Her mother's voice was suddenly soft._

_Closing her eyes, she uttered softly, "yes?"_

_"Nia..." The voice had become a man's now, it was familiar and alien at the same time._

_Nia..._

_...Nia..._

_...wake up...Nia..._

OOOOO

"Yo Nia, rise and shine princess!" A cheery voice called out to her.

"Mmm...mwha...?" Nia lifted her forearm from view. She was greeted by a bright blue sky and a dry but warm morning.

Sitting up, she noticed that all around her, soldiers had begun rolling up their tents and belongings and stuffing them onto trucks. At some distance from her she noticed the young boy was doing the same, although in the manner that he worked would have put even her quick and hardworking mother to shame.

He was a strange boy, that Raven child. Everything about him was quick and smooth, to her his actions made him look like a trained war veteran, a housekeeper, and a worker all in one. Wherever he came from he was either mistaken for a girl or the men took no shame in doing the work of women.

Nia took a moment to examine the boy at a distance. Beads of sweat poured down his face and body as he worked. His uniform had been removed and was tied around his waste, the sweat on his bare unmarked chest glistening in the sunlight. There was not a single mark on his body aside from the patches of dirt and grime.

He was so clean.

He was child.

He was still only a child.

OOOOO

_The distant gunshots still rung in her head. She was crying so hard now. It was funny how her mind couldn't draw a picture on the fate of the rest of her family. Perhaps she had reached her limit, even deep down inside Nia could feel herself slipping away. One of her older friends held her and stroked her hair gently in a reassuring fashion. Her name was Natalia and she had just recently gotten married, not that it mattered anymore since all the men had been shot dead like dogs._

_"Its okay..." Natalia would whisper over and over to her. Nia loved Natalia in the fact that she was a great sister-girlfriend type of person. She was perfect family-away-from-family material. But even now her confidence was faltering, and her strong and caring voice wavering._

_"They are going to ruin us aren't they?" Nia asked in a voice full of fear. "They are going to ravage us just like mother said and..."_

_"No they're not!" Natalia said almost instantly. "I'll make sure they don't even lay a finger on you."_

_Even this statement sounded extremely ridiculous. Natalia's words trembled as they spilled from her mouth. Was this the feeling of helplessness?_

_The two girls sat in the rumbling truck as it carried them along with the rest of the "chosen" from her village to their destination. Nia leaned against her one remaining sister and tried to rest, this was probably the last moment for both of them to make peace with themselves. Hell awaited them beyond the walls of the vehicle, and it would spare them no time of peace._

_"Hey!" Natalia said in an unusual cheery voice, pulling Nia away abruptly. "Look on the bright side, at least you can finally show off your housewife talents!"_

_They both laughed softly at this, and their laughter seemed out of place among the grieving of the villagers. Nia—and she probably knew Natalia too—only laughed for the sake of laughing, the chance to experience that one moment of happiness with the few remaining people that were precious to her. _

_There would be no chance to live as a wife or mother. Those things burned away along with her village._

_"Hey," Nia said after a long silence, "I remember my father told me something a long time ago."_

_Her father..._

_"And what would that be little one?" Natalia asked._

_Nia frowned a bit._

_"He said..." Nia began slowly, "...if you pray really hard, in times of need someone will come."_

_"That's all just superstition." The older girl joked. But the two of them prayed anyways. They prayed for a future; they prayed for a savior; they prayed for freedom._

_They were suddenly thrown out of their seats as the truck stopped abruptly, followed by an explosion and the shouting of men outside._

_"No way..." Natalia said in disbelief._

_In the distance—or perhaps it was Nia's own imagination—the cawing of the black bird could be heard in the distance. It was soft and faint but it was there, more clear and sound than the ongoing chaos outside._

OOOOO

"You are a strange one, you know?" Nia said poking the boy's cheek. Sion's eyes shifted onto her momentarily before moving back onto the floor of the truck. The rumbling room was rather silent, with many men still resting from the night before—afew exceptions talking amongst themselves. Looking over at him, she could see that there was a look of disappointment on the boys face. Nia guessed that it was probably because that man the two of them were with was not on this truck. It was odd that such a boy would be attached to a man like him, but he was a child and children needed companions.

"Umm... are you hungry?" The boy asked after a moment of silence, his eyes never once glancing over at her. Nia was surprised by him. He was talking to her!

"Not really." She replied rather quickly with a laugh.

His tone of voice was strange to her, it did not match him much at all. It was light and high pitched, almost like a girl but not so much that it lost all traces of boyhood. To her it sounded almost like herself if she had a slightly deeper tone. The boy was also incredibly soft-spoken, almost to a point of sounding shy (though she figured already that he was anti-social). This softness also had a firmness that she couldn't put her finger on, though it reminded her strongly of Natalia.

Nia laughed a little on the inside at the irony.

"A-are you sure?" Sion asked suddenly as she had barely finished her sentence. "Because I still have some food left over. If you want, we could share it... or you could have it all... if you want..."

His words started out fast and jumbled and slowed down as he finished. Though the way he finished made it sound like he had something more to say. It ebbed at Nia, though she tried not to mind to too much.

This time Nia chuckled out loud. It was soft and lighthearted, something that she hadn't felt for some time.

Looking at him Nia could see that his head was now turned towards her. On his face was etched on a slight look of puzzlement and contemplation. His eyes still refused to meet her face and had focused themselves onto a spot on the wooden flooring of the cargo hold.

He was a funny one, that child.

"I don't mind sharing." She said sweetly. "Besides didn't your moth—"

She stopped mid-sentence. Sion looked up to her now, his eyes looked downtrodden.

"I have no mother." He said softly. The truck hit a bump, bouncing them in their seats. "That's what they told me..."

"Not true!" Nia exclaimed, nearly standing up up. She remembered that enthusiasm sometimes helped to lift the spirits. "Who told you this nonsense?!"

"I don't know..." The boy replied softly. "I do not remember..."

His voice was soft and emotionless, like a man in deep thought. His eyes had floated upon her face, but had a faraway look in them.

Again she laughed inside.

Even then he wouldn't look at her.

OOOOO

_"So what's your name kid?"_

_He never answered him when he first asked. The boy's tent was propped up next to a dry, dead tree and he sat against it using his backpack and uniform top as a cushion against its woody surface and the hard earth beneath him. His eyes never moved from the nearby encampments of other men, their shadows cast upon the tents as the light of the flames penetrated through the thin fabric._

_Nathaniel stood a short distance from the boy. He had a can of beans in one hand and his uniform top rolled up underneath his arm. His tank top was clean and dry and through his tangled mess of blond hair, a pair of brown eyes gazed at the boy with curiosity and alertness._

_"Mind if I take a seat?" He motioned as if to lay down on the ground. He paused for a second to wait for the boy's reaction. Seeing none, he lay down on the hard flat ground with a rather loud groan. The boy could tell that it was deliberate, as if the man wanted to make sure he knew that he had settled himself down._

_The boy's eyes moved from the men to the the flames that rose and fell from their woody resting place. The man had groaned again as he laid down and looked up at the stars._

_"You ever see the stars kid?" He asked._

_No answer._

_"They were absolutely awesome in my hometown." He continued. "There was this nice hill a ways out of the village, it was a hell of a climb but—oh excuse my language." He paused briefly to steal a quick glance at the boy._

_No answer._

_"It was an awesome view!" He started again, his voice filled with emotion. "Every night we got a full sky. Should've seen it!"_

_The boy shifted his movements slightly. The man had stopped talking, the quick silence filled with the crackling flames and the sound of men talking off in the distance._

_"You're probably wondering why I'm talking to you, aren't you?"_

OOOOO

He had those dreams again. The dream where he was surrounded by flames and bodies. He could see someone in the distance reaching their hand out to him. He felt taller, stronger and older. His senses were unusually sharp but he could not make out the figure beyond the roaring flames, and beyond the dancing tongues there was nothing but blackness. He tried to run to her but his body only managed a staggering walk. He was suddenly very heavy and his knees were giving out, he tried to reach for the woman but she only seemed to be pulled back farther into the flames. As he got closer, he could make out her silvery white hair that obscured her face. Her hand was still reaching out to him but it seemed to be melting now, nonetheless he scrambled to reach for it. Something inside him begged for him to save that woman, but even with all the strength that he felt he still could not reach her.

Eventually he began to get closer and closer to the woman. He was exhausted though, even with all the power he felt he still had to use every ounce of it in order to reach the woman.

He was one step away.

And then the ground beneath him gave.

And he fell into darkness.

He suddenly awoke in a dark room. He could hear a woman crying directly in front of him. Her voice sounded like that of a young girl. He could feel a soft bed beneath him and a hard wall behind him. It suddenly occurred to him that he was sitting up against a wall, and the woman was right there in front of him.

Had he saved her?

Did the floor collapse save them?

Through the warm blue glow of the dark room he could see that she was knelt down in front of him, sitting on her knees with her hands in her lap. She sat in between his slightly spread and folded legs, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed softly. He could see her full white hair in the soft light and the thin jacket that draped over her shoulders.

"Why?" She said in between sobs. "Why can't I help you."

He felt the urge to reach out and hold her.

He felt the need to surround her with a fortress of his own body.

He wanted to stop this angel's tears.

His body wouldn't move, though his eyes could see all. He felt as if he were watching someone else's life, intruding upon their dreams with the intent of nothing but to observe. He forced this body to move, it had to move for the sake of this girl. It could not be allowed in this world for this angelic being to cry, he felt in his soul that her smile was the very essence of happiness; her tears containing the very heart of sadness.

"Tell me why?" She asked the unmoving body, her voice beginning to break. She moved closer towards him until their foreheads pressed against one another.

He begged for someone to save this girl.

She was his world.

She was the world.

She spoke his name in a soft broken whisper, the distance between their face diminishing with each passing moment.

"Why? Why can't I save you?"

He fell through back into darkness.

"Sion! Get'chur ass up son!!"


End file.
